


areyouarealmonster's tumblr constangreen fills

by areyouarealmonster



Category: DC's Legends of Tomorrow (TV)
Genre: M/M, Prompt Fill
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-29
Updated: 2018-06-23
Packaged: 2019-04-29 19:35:05
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 5,386
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14479683
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/areyouarealmonster/pseuds/areyouarealmonster
Summary: Collection of constangreen fills from tumblr. chapters will have prompts and any warnings involved.





	1. Chapter 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous asked: now that John is on the team, and there's no way he's canceling D&D nights, the team's got to join in, right? How do you think that'll go down?

“So, who’s up for Gary coming on board and leading us in D&D nights, say, once a week?” John asks, draped over a chair on the bridge. 

 

Ray’s hand shoots up immediately. 

 

“That’s a shock,” John mutters. He’s not surprised, either, by Wally’s hand flying into the air as well, or by Nate’s. 

 

Sara leans over the console to smirk at him. “Does this mean we have to put up with your insufferable flirting for even more hours in a week?” 

 

John pretends to take offense. “My flirting with Gary is  _not_  insufferable–nowhere near as insufferable as your ‘ _private’_ phone calls with Ava, love.” 

 

“They  _are_ private!” Sara insists. “Maybe if you weren’t such a nosy bast–”

 

“Hey,” Ray cuts in, holding his hands out, like Sara and John are  _actually_  fighting, “I’m sure Gary is a wonderful dungeon master, who wouldn’t spend the entire campaign flirting with his boyfriend.” 

 

John points emphatically at Ray to underline what the man just said. “Precisely!” 

 

“I’d be interested,” Zari pipes up, ignoring the rest of the conversation. “It’s like, video games but on paper, right? Just like, analog RPG?”

 

John shrugs; he’s not really a gamer. 

 

“That’s…I mean, it’s like, the original role playing game,” Ray starts to say. 

 

“Cool, got it,” Zari says, before Ray can start infodumping–they’ll hear it all later, and they try to get decisions actually made before Ray’s speeches start. “Yeah, I’m in.” 

 

“So that leaves Mick,” John says, spinning to stare at the aforementioned man. 

 

“ _Nope_.” 

 

“What about me?” Sara snaps. “Do you not care if I join?”

 

“You’re not invited, pet,” John teases. 

 

Sara groans. “I hate you.”

 

“I know,” John says, throwing her a wink. “You in, anyway?” 

 

“F _ine_ ,” Sara says, rolling her eyes. 

 

John pulls out the phone Gary made him get, sending off a quick text to his boyfriend: ‘team is in. come over later tonight, i’ll txt w timing’

 

He gets a text back almost immediately: ‘EVEN RORY??? [scream emoji][scream emoji]’

 

John chuckles and responds. ‘no, but i know he’ll watch and then slowly get sucked into playing so make him a character anyway. x’

 

He looks up to find Sara right in front of him. “Can we get back to it, or do you wanna keep texting your boyfriend who you’ll see in a few hours, anyway?” 

 

“Back to it, then, love, I’m not stopping you,” John says, smirking at her and stowing his phone back in his pocket. 

 

D&D night is gonna be loads of fun with this lot.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> timespeedster asked: I'm not sure how to word this prompt but: Constantine isn't used to softness and that's all Gary is. Fingers threading together, Gary's head on Constantine's shoulder, smiles, fingers in Constantine's hair. Constantine, in his classic fashion, doesn't think he deserves this goodness

John thinks it’s gonna be another one-night stand with this adorable bumbling nerd. Really, he does. 

 

And it goes well, for about a minute. 

 

Truly, honestly, it probably all went to hell the second John kissed him, right on the mouth, after he’d spouted who knows what about Dungeons and Dragons. (Okay, so maybe John knows exactly what, because he couldn’t help but listen intently to the excitement radiating from Gary.)

 

Gary’s smile was enough to melt John’s bitter and blackened heart for a second, but there was work to be done, and John had to  _focus_. Focus on something besides those heart eyes gazing at him from behind those thick-rimmed black glasses. 

 

So, when the day was won, when Gary, dazed and dizzy after being thrown against the wall by a death-totem-wielding-Sara, invited him to play D&D after all this, John couldn’t help but say yes. 

 

So here he is, learning how to play Dungeons & Dragons instead of…okay, it’s not like John has a very interesting social life. He’d be chain-smoking alone in his hotel room, probably. Maybe at a bar, getting shitfaced and hooking up with a random stranger. Yeah, his life is  _so_ exciting, he’s not about to judge Gary for having a lively friends group who get together to talk about, well,  _magic_. 

 

And the hooking up part may be the same, but the random stranger bit, not so much. John thinks you can learn a lot about a person by how they lead a group, and John’s getting to know Gary quite well from this. 

 

Gary is imaginative and bright, sharp and funny, and absolutely bloody adorable. John may be in a bit over his head on this one; he usually drops everything and runs at the first sign of feelings. But he’s having too much damn  _fun_ , and he hasn’t even gotten Gary’s clothes off yet. 

 

That, first. Then the cut and run. 

 

But, of course, as with what John is learning is commonplace for anything even tangentially associated with the Legends, nothing quite works out as planned. Or even anywhere near what he’d thought was the plan.  _Fucking Legends_. 

 

He knows it’s all gone to shite when he wakes up and he’s still actually  _in_  Gary’s bed. He’s wrapped around Gary, their fingers intertwined, and the worst part of it all is that John doesn’t actually want to move. His mind is screaming at him to  _go, go, get out, what are you still doing here_ , but then Gary mutters something incoherent and flops around so his face is buried in John’s chest. 

 

Oh, no.

 

Oh, John is  _so fucked_. 

 

His mind won’t stop bringing up the soft, sweet moments of the night before, so unlike most of John’s previous fast-and-rough lovemaking sessions. Those were all about getting off, just two people moving together. 

 

Last night was…gentle. Slow. 

 

Ah, bollocks, this is all too much. John needs to stop this before it gets too far, before he gets in too deep–not that he’s not already in too deep, what he really needs to do is stop it before  _Gary_ gets in too deep. John can’t hurt another innocent soul, he just can’t. 

 

But he is so weak for those soft dark curls tickling his chin, for those warm hands clutching his back, for the soft snores rumbling in the other man’s chest. For Gary’s warm laughter and soft kisses, for those bright eyes and brighter smiles. 

 

Just a few more minutes, then. 

 

And then John will leave.

 

Yes, definitely. 

 

A few more minutes. 

 

…

 

He doesn’t leave.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> kat-cornwell asked: Constangreen, insecure John.

It’s just a date, John reminds himself, adjusting his new red bow-tie in the mirror. Just dinner–he’s had dinner with Gary loads of times. Okay, so it’s mostly been takeout in front of the telly, or in the mess on the Waverider at odd times, with random team members wandering in and out. 

 

 _Casual_.

 

John’s great at casual. 

 

He sighs, catching the attention of Zari wandering past his door. She walks past, and then doubles back, almost reluctantly. 

 

“Whatcha dressed up for?” she asks, leaning in the doorway and munching on an apple. 

 

“It’s date night, love,” John answers, raking his fingers through his hair, trying to see if he can get it into a style other than ‘sticking-up.’ “Gary got us reservations to this, uh, fancy place, can’t remember what it’s called.” 

 

Zari hums. “You don’t seem like the fancy type,” she muses. Another crunch of the crisp apple sets John’s teeth on edge, and he takes a deep breath so he doesn’t snap at his teammate for no reason. It’s not her fault he’s…

 

Nervous? He has no reason to be nervous, it’s just a date. A date, with his  _boyfriend_. His boyfriend who he hasn’t really actually ever been out with when it wasn’t killing demons or saving the timeline or getting drunk with the team on New Years in 2000 in New York City, just for fun. 

 

“I’m not,” John mutters, in response to Zari’s comment. “But Gary wants to go.” 

 

“Tell him you don’t wanna,” Zari says, waving the almost-to-the-core apple vaguely. “Tell him to put on sweatpants, you’re gonna have movie night.” 

 

John gives up on his hair and shrugs on his new black suit jacket. It fits perfectly, and it feels weird. “Wouldn’t be fair to Gary, now would it? He planned this special.” 

 

“But you don’t wanna go.” 

 

“I didn’t say that,” John says, shoving his hands in his pants pockets. No cigarettes, no lighter, right. He rifles through his coat, thrown carelessly on his bed, to pull them out, so he has something to do with his hands. 

 

“Then why are you nervous?” Zari asks, chucking her finished apple at the garbage chute opening in John’s room. It bounces off the panel, skittering off into the corner. “Oops.” She doesn’t move to get it. 

 

“I’m not nervous,” John insists, lighting up. Gideon kicks the fan on, sucking the smoke out of the room as best she can. John ignores her silent judgement. 

 

Zari raises an eyebrow at him and he stares back before looking pointedly over at the apple core. He’s not nervous he’s–

 

Okay, he’s nervous. 

 

“What do people talk about?” John asks. “At these fancy restaurants?” He gives up trying to will her to pick up the apple core and ducks down, picking it up and putting in the garbage disposal. 

 

Zari shrugs. “What do you guys normally talk about?”

 

“I feel like demons and magic and time travel isn’t appropriate dinner conversation at Chez…whatever.” 

 

“Nobody’s gonna be paying attention to what you guys are talking about,” Zari scoffs. “You’re just worried you’ll run out of things to say.” 

 

John wants to protest, but he can’t. “It’s a possibility.” 

 

Zari laughs, not unkindly. “Constantine, everyone knows Gary is smitten with you. You could talk about your dusty old books for the entire dinner and he’d hang on your every word. You guys never shut up when you’re together, stop worrying so much.” 

 

She leans in to pat him on the shoulder, makes a face at the smell of smoke even though he’s careful to blow it away from her, and walks off. 

 

John sighs again, abandoning all hopes at looking polished and snuffing the cigarette out in the dragon-head-shaped ashtray that Gary had got for him as a housewarming gift when John officially moved into his room on the Waverider. He doesn’t know how to say that he’s not good at dating, that he’s never been one for anything but one-night stands and friends with benefits. 

 

That he tends to ruin the lives of everyone who gets too close, even if they forgive him for it over and over again. 

 

His phone buzzes with a text notification on the bed, lighting up the screen. 

> **Gary** : you ready?

 

John sends a quick text back that he is, and a portal opens up in the hallway outside his room. Gary steps out in a sharp, fitted suit, so different from his Time Bureau attire. His smile lights up his face, and John feels comforted and terrified, all at once. 

 

 _Please, let me not fuck this up_ , John thinks, as he leans up slightly to meet the press of Gary’s lips. 

 

“You’ll  _never_  guess what happened today,” Gary starts, opening the portal again, back to Star City. He launches into an explanation of his day, and John takes a deep breath, letting Gary’s story flow over him. 

 

He can do this. Hopefully without hurting Gary in the process. 

 

“You okay?” Gary asks, pausing just outside the door to the restaurant. 

 

John looks up into his boyfriend’s eyes, seeing warmth and a bit of worry. He doesn’t want Gary to worry. “You’re really taking a scruffy miscreant like me into this fancy place?” he half-jokes. He expects Gary to laugh, but Gary stops instead, pulling John away from the door. 

 

“Is this too much?” Gary asks, suddenly serious, his voice quiet. 

 

John wasn’t expecting that, and he stammers out an answer that’s way more honest than he’d meant to be: “I’m much more comfortable with greasy diner food.” 

 

“We could go to a diner instead,” Gary says, about to march John off to the first place he can find. 

 

“No,” John says, grabbing onto his arm. “You wanted to go here.” 

 

“Yeah, but I didn’t ask you if you wanted to,” Gary says. “I just made plans. I should have asked.” He sighs. “I’m sorry, I get  _way_  too far ahead of myself when I get excited and then I go overboard.”

 

He was  _excited_. John feels like an asshole. He should have just sucked it up and gotten over himself. “Gary, love,” John says, stepping forward and wrapping his arms around Gary’s neck. “You know I adore your excitement.” 

 

Gary nods, his hands slipping automatically around John’s waist, his eyes wide behind his glasses. 

 

John’s made an ass of himself, and Gary deserves the truth. “I’m not used to this, to people wanting to go all out for me. I’ll need some adjusting, but that doesn’t mean we shouldn’t go to this ridiculously fancy place for dinner. That just means I need to shut up and enjoy your grand plans.” 

 

“If you don’t want to, though–” Gary starts.

 

“I do.”  _I want to be with you, wherever you are_ , John thinks, but he can’t get the words out. “I’m just an idiot,” he says, off-hand. 

 

Gary kisses him, light and quick. “You’re not an idiot, John.” 

 

“Flatterer,” John teases, throwing in a wink to lighten the mood. It works, Gary’s face lighting up again like a sparkler. “Shall we?” John asks, nodding over his shoulder at the door. 

 

Gary nods, leans in for one more kiss, and leads John inside. 

 

And John, despite the fear lurking in the pit of his stomach that he’s going to ruin Gary, has fun. 

 

Even if he’s going to have to break Gary’s heart eventually, before he can break Gary’s soul, he at least can enjoy this fancy meal with food he can’t pronounce and wine that costs more than a night in a cheap motel. And Gary. He can enjoy the night, because he’s with Gary. 

 

And Zari was right; nobody cares how much they talk about time travel, or dusty old books, or demons, and they never once run out of things to say.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> on tumblr [here](http://jewishgarygreen.tumblr.com/post/173427715224/constangreen-insecure-john)


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous asked: what do you think it'd be like if Gary tried to keep up with John's drinking one night?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> chapter warnings for: alcohol, alcoholism (implied), vomiting (mention), nausea, a very passing reference to pot

Gary gets his first invite to game night on the Waverider, and he can barely contain his excitement. Director Sharpe–Ava, he can call her Ava when they’re off the clock, she told him–has been loads of times, since she’s dating Capta–Sara. 

 

He can call her Sara, when it’s just the team kicking back in the library, pillows and blankets covering the floor, the couch full of way too many grown and muscular adults than should reasonably fit. 

 

He’s excited and he’s nervous, because what does one even talk about when hanging out with a bunch of  _literal legends_? Like, okay, sure, he’s  _dating_  one of them, but John Constantine is…

 

Okay, he’s a Legend, both with a lowercase and capital L, and he’s pretty intimidating at times, but Gary knows him well enough by now to know that there’s a soft, squishy middle under all that gruff self-effacing demeanor. A soft, squishy middle that calls Gary, ‘ _love_ ,’ in the softest voice, runs his fingers through Gary’s hair, kisses him so sweetly that he can feel the room spin–

 

He’s getting carried away. As usual. 

 

Anyway, Gary’s in the library, on the Waverider, settled on a puff of pillows on the floor, leaning back against John’s legs; John, who is shoved in between the way-too-large shoulders of Ray Palmer–the Atom! so cool!–and smaller-shoulders-but-still-super-buff Sara Lance, with Ava on Sara’s other side. 

 

It’s a two-person couch. Gary  _thinks_. Maybe it’s not! Maybe it’s a three-person couch with two seat pillows! Whatever it is, Ava is literally in Sara’s lap, and Ray’s arm is draped casually over John’s shoulders and Gary is not jealous because John is  _his_  and keeps running one hand–the hand that isn’t holding a glass of whiskey–through Gary’s hair, making it stick up straight in places, like bedhead. 

 

Like John’s hair always looks. 

 

Gary has his own glass of whiskey, and if he’s trying to drink to match John–well, he knows he shouldn’t, but there’s so much excitement and Gary keeps looking up in time to catch the curve of John’s throat as he throws his head back to take a sip, not even wincing at the burn, and he’s so  _cool_  and Gary knows he doesn’t have to impress him but…

 

He wants to.

 

The Legends are all so  _cool_ , and Gary just wants to feel like one of them, and not John’s awkward dorky boyfriend, not Ava’s assistant, not the outlier in this group of superheroes. 

 

Superheroes who are currently kicking each others’ asses in videos games, but superheroes nonetheless. Half the team (and Gary) are drinking on or around the couch, while the others–mainly Zari, Wally, and Nate–are playing…Mario Party? maybe? while Mick laughs at them, teases them. They were playing something else but they seem to have switched while Gary was staring up at John. 

 

Nate’s stoned, while Zari and Wally stick to soda–caffeine free for Z, heh, that rhymes–so he’s getting completely  _owned_. Another rhyme, stoned and owned–and, oohh, the whiskey seems to be hitting Gary harder and faster than he’d expected.

 

“John,” he starts, trying to turn, but the room spins instead of him. “Oh.” 

 

He sees John hand his whiskey glass off to Ray without a word, and then John is scooting off the couch and oh, Gary’s a mess, isn’t he? 

 

“You with me, squire?” John asks, kneeling on the pillow puddle in front of Gary, his voice soft and sweet, like nobody else is there. 

 

“I think I’m drunk,” Gary mutters, and he’s coherent enough to know that he’s slurring, but not coherent enough to stop. 

 

John looks down at the empty glass in his hand. “You trying to keep up with me?” he asks, a note of something that tastes like regret in his voice. 

 

Taste–Gary’s mouth tastes funny, tastes sour, like he’s going to throw up. Uh-oh, he might throw up. He’s already forgotten that John asked him a question, but John didn’t seem to need one. One what? Oh, an answer. One–one answer. 

 

Gary feels bile in his throat and forces it down. “I drank too much,” he says, and it comes out in the whine he was trying to suppress, along with the vomit. 

 

John smiles at him, fond and warm and not condescending like he should be because Gary’s an idiot. “Been there, love. Let’s get you up, get you some water.” 

 

He gets Gary up, his slight, smaller form easily supporting Gary’s weight, and half-drags him out of the hot, loud, smoky library. Or, maybe the heat and the smoke were all in Gary’s head, since Gideon turned her fans up when Nate lit a joint and John a cigarette–

 

Gary has to lean against the wall and take deep breaths, in and out,  _don’t throw up don’t throw up, please don’t throw up, you’ll ruin game night_. 

 

“You alright?” John asks, rubbing a hand across Gary’s back. 

 

Gary nods, then shakes his head. No, he’s not. He wants to rest his forehead against the cool, blunt metal of the hallway, but John tugs at him gently. 

 

“Come on, we’re almost at the galley, let’s get some water in you,” John says. “You’ll feel better.” 

 

“How are you not, not  _plastered_?” Gary asks, forcing out the words as he tries to remember to breathe. 

 

John is silent for an eternity, the emptiness stretching down the hallway, boomeranging back, footsteps echoing in Gary’s ears. It lingers until John settles Gary down in a chair in the mess, bringing him a glass of water and a large metal bowl. 

 

“Just in case,” John mutters, the metal ringing as he sets it down on the similarly metal table. “And you know why I’m not drunk, love.” 

 

“You drink too much,” Gary answers, almost automatically. He knew that. He did, he  _does_ , but they’ve only barely just started dating–almost two months, only almost two months. It’s too early to say it, to maybe tell his boyfriend that he has a bit of a drinking problem. He shouldn’t have said it, now. 

 

But he’s drunk, so he said it. No filter. He’s got barely any filter when he’s sober, anyway. 

 

John doesn’t respond right away, just watches Gary take slow sips of water between deep, calming breaths. When he does talk again, he just asks if Gary wants a piece of toast.

 

Gary can breathe without wanting to heave, so he nods. Might be good, some food. Soak up the booze, sober up a bit. 

 

John fiddles with the toast, silence settling in as Gary’s head buzzes and spins. It’s–it’s  _too_  quiet. 

 

“You wanna talk about it?” Gary asks–slurs–and then winces. Stupid, stupid. 

 

“About my drinking?” John asks, his back turned to Gary, the knife scraping butter across the toasted surface of the bread. “Not particularly.”

 

“Okay.” That’s probably better, with Gary still so drunk, and with them still under two months into this. Better, but Gary’s mouth moves without his knowledge. “But we should talk about it. At some point.” 

 

John sets the plate of toast in front of Gary, his mouth screwed up in thought. “Is this what being in a relationship is like?” he asks, settling down in the chair next to Gary and propping his feet up on the table. “I actually have to  _talk_  about things?” 

 

Gary chews his toast, talking around it: “I want you to tell me things.” He sprays crumbs on the table, but John doesn’t seem to notice. He swallows, and continues: “You can tell me anything.” 

 

John looks over, meets his eyes. His expression is hard to read, but there’s a softness to his eyes, a stubborn set to his jaw, a considering tilt to his head. John Constantine is a bundle of contradictions, and Gary–

 

Well, Gary loves him, simple as that. 

 

“Alright,” John says, picking his feet up off the table and planting them solidly on the floor with a  _clunk_. “Not now–drink your water, eat your toast. But, later, I promise, I’ll tell you what I can. Is that okay with you, love?” 

 

Gary tries to lean forward to kiss John, but the motion makes his nausea bubble back up so he stops. “Yes,” he says instead. “That’s okay with me.” 

 

John meets him halfway, pressing a soft, stubbly kiss to Gary’s cheek. “Will you  _not_  try to match me drink-for-drink next game night?” he asks. 

 

“I’m still invited to next game night?” Gary asks, perking up. 

 

John laughs, warm and scratchy. “Of course you are, love. You’re with me, and believe me, not a one of my teammates is going to judge you for getting a bit too drunk. You didn’t even make a mess in the library, which is more than can be said for Nate, or Mick, or Wally last week when he got some of Cisco’s special booze–why do you think  _he’s_ not drinking tonight?” 

 

“I thought it was solidarity with Zari,” Gary answers. “Like, designated driver, except designated sober friend so she doesn’t feel left out.”

 

“That’s–” John pauses– “that’s actually a very good idea. I’m sure Zari would appreciate that. But, no, Wally threw up. On an ancient text that Nate had left out. He’s taking it easy for a bit. Also, he’s out of the booze that actually gets him drunk, so there’s no point to downing fifty beers.” 

 

Gary laughs, and it doesn’t make him nauseous.  _Better_. He kicks his feet up, resting them in John’s lap as he slowly drinks the rest of his water. His head still spins, and his stomach doesn’t feel  _great_ , but at least he’s not on the verge of throwing up.

 

John’s hands rest, soothing and warm, on Gary’s shins, as they sit together, their quiet voices echoing through the empty galley. 

 

And if Gary wakes up with a headache  _and_  a stomachache, at least he wakes up with John in his arms. At least he wakes with the memory of John promising to  _talk_  to him about…about whatever it is, whatever many things that keep him buried at the bottom of a bottle. 

 

Gary buries his face in the back of John’s neck, nuzzling up, as John slowly wakes, his hands interlocking with Gary’s, and it feels like home. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> on tumblr [here](http://jewishgarygreen.tumblr.com/post/173433746184/what-do-you-think-itd-be-like-if-gary-tried-to)


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> kat-cornwell asked: Constangreen - their second kiss.

_Ow_. Getting thrown up against walls by a Death-Totem-wielding-Captain-Lance really hurts a lot more than Gary would have thought. Okay, part of it is probably the metal walls of the Waverider with all their sticky-outty bits and–

 

And Gary’s head  _really_  hurts. 

 

“Med bay, Gary,” Ava orders, staggering to her feet. Gary can see Constantine, unmoving on the ground. 

 

“Is he okay?” Gary asks, his head throbbing. Ava limps over to him, regaining her feet, and kicks gently at him. He groans and sits up slowly.

 

“You really had to kick me, pet?” he asks, rubbing at his temples. 

 

“Had to check to see if you were alive. Come on, get up, we gotta get Sara.” Ava sounds stressed, worried, anxious. 

 

Gary tries to get up too, but ends up collapsing again. He feels an arm around his shoulders, a hand on his chest, steadying him, and he looks up into John Constantine’s dark eyes. “Oh,” he says, dizzy at the closeness. 

 

“You alright there, squire?” Constantine asks. 

 

“Come  _on_ ,” Ava says, her voice raw, “get him to the med bay and let’s go.” 

 

“Yeah, I got it. Come on, mate, up.” Constantine  _lifts_ , and Gary is able to stand this time, but his head is  _spinning_. “You hit your head?” Constantine asks. 

 

Gary thinks he nods. “Yeah? Maybe?” 

 

Ava walks ahead of them as Constantine ferries Gary to the med bay, glancing back over her shoulder at them occasionally, but mostly scanning the hallways for any sign of Captain Lance. She lurks at the doorway as Constantine drops Gary into one of the med bay chairs, and then drags him away. 

 

The light of the ship’s AI–Gideon–pours over Gary, and he can still feel the pressure of Constantine’s hand on his chest as he drifts away, painkillers and whatever else Gideon has up her sleeve, sending him into dreamland. 

 

He wakes up to the smell of smoke. Not like a campfire, like a cigarette…oh. 

 

Gary opens his eyes to see John Constantine leaning against the wall of the med bay, smoking. 

 

“Should you be doing that in here?” Gary asks, trying to sit up. 

 

“Thank you, Agent Green,” Gideon answers, in her soothing voice. “I keep trying to tell him that, but he won’t listen.”

 

“Ah, bite me, pet,” Constantine responds, but he puts the cigarette out on a metal tray anyway. “How’s the head?” he asks, sauntering–literally _sauntering_ –over to Gary. 

 

He is  _so hot_.

 

“I think I’m okay?” Gary says, and it’s almost not a question. “I should be okay to DM tonight, I have my campaign all planned out, at least.” 

 

“DM?” Constantine asks, pulling up a stool and settling down on it. He’s  _very close_. 

 

“Oh, uh, Dungeon Master. For Dungeons & Dragons. The–the role playing game I mentioned earlier.” 

 

“Ah, yes,” Constantine says, his lips curling up into a smirk. “The Sword of bloody Sorrow.” 

 

Gary’s face feels hot. “Yeah, that.” He wants Constantine to kiss him again, wants Constantine to have meant that kiss, but he knows it was, like, a heat-of-the-moment type thing. 

 

“Sounds like fun, actually,” Constantine muses.

 

“You could come,” Gary blurts out, instantly regretting it. 

 

“Could I?” Constantine asks, an eyebrow twitching up. 

 

Gary wasn’t expecting that. Maybe his big mouth won’t dig him into a deeper hole this time. “Yeah, I mean, I could like, help you create a character, we’ve probably got some time before everyone comes over, I can go over the rules and–sorry, this is like, really dorky.”

 

Constantine chuckles. “Gary, mate, I spend most of my time pouring over old mystical texts. This is basically what I do all day, but without the life-or-death stakes involved. Plus–” he winks– “you’re cute when you’re excited.” 

 

Gary’s mouth drops open. He just stares at Constantine, unsure he heard what he thought he heard. 

 

“You’re cute when you’re confused, too,” Constantine muses. “I already know that applies when you’re flustered, but let’s retest that, shall we?” 

 

Before Gary can get his mouth working again to ask what he means, Constantine leans forward, kissing him. It’s deeper than the last kiss, with  _tongue_ , and Gary thinks he’s enjoying it but he’s also freaking out because he doesn’t want to mess this up–

 

Constantine pulls back before Gary can find his footing. Gary’s eyes shoot open. Constantine’s are still half-lidded, his mouth slightly open, but just for a second, before he looks up, settling back into his smirk. 

 

“Definitely still cute when you’re flustered,” Constantine confirms. 

 

Gary still can’t speak. Hopefully he can get over this before he has to DM in a bit. 

 

“You ready to head out?” Constantine asks, getting off the stool with a flourish of his long brown coat and walking over to the door. Gary flounders. 

 

“Constantine?” Gary asks, finally finding his voice. He’s not sure what he wants to ask, but Constantine glances back to look at him and the first thought that spills out is: “Are you gonna kiss me again?” 

 

“What, right now?” Constantine asks, his voice low and sultry. 

 

Gary gulps. “Later. After D&D?” Constantine walks back over to the cot, and Gary swings his legs over the side to face him. 

 

“If you want me to,” Constantine says, placing a hand on Gary’s thigh and sliding it slowly up. “And if you want me to do anything else, you just let me know, alright?” 

 

There’s a groaning from the second cot and Gary looks over. He hadn’t noticed Dr. Palmer there before, and he seems to have woken up.

 

“This is really very nice,” Dr. Palmer says, “but can you guys maybe take your flirting elsewhere? My head is still  _killing me_.” 

 

Constantine laughs. “Sorry, big guy.” He winks at Gary and then steps away again. “Shall we?” 

 

Gary gets up this time, a bit unsteady on his feet, and Constantine meets him in the middle, once again wrapping an arm around him, and placing a steady hand on his chest. 

 

“I’ve got you, squire,” he says, and, oh yeah, Gary’s head over heels. 

 

It’s a miracle he gets through the adventure that night, with Constantine flirting shamelessly at every opportunity, and his friends giving him knowing looks every time. It’s a miracle he can speak, can improv, can do anything but stare at John Constantine. 

 

But he gets through it. And, afterwards, Constantine kisses him again and again and again–and not  _just_  kisses. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> on tumblr [here](http://jewishgarygreen.tumblr.com/post/173467885034/constangreen-their-second-kiss)


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> anonymous asked: There is a certain point of sleep exhaustion where John Constantine will curl up in your lap and ourr like a kitten when you stroke his hair (not that he'd ever admit to it). Gary adores this time, because all of the tension John carries is released and he relaxes for once.

John doesn’t sleep easy. Oh, sure, he passes out in the most random places, and it’s often that you’ll find him face-first in a mattress, only the steady rise and fall of his back to tell you that he’s actually breathing. 

 

Gary isn’t sure  _how_  he breathes with his face pressed into the mattress but, hey, it’s John Constantine, he’s probably got a spell for that. 

 

John has two sleep modes: restless, and wake-the-dead–as in, you better be a necromancer or just have a lot of patience ‘cuz John isn’t waking up for anything less than a bullhorn sounded right next to his ear. Well, the phone-app equivalent; yes, there’s an app for that. Gary has it on his phone. 

 

Restless-sleep-mode-John isn’t a cuddler, because he’s still on high-alert, even in sleep, and every touch will wake him in a panic, like he’s missing something, like someone needs his help at that very second. 

 

It’s only (for better or worse) when John is past the point of exhaustion, that he can handle touch when he’s asleep. When he’s awake, he can’t keep his hands off the people he cares about–shoulder pats and forehead kisses and throwing his legs in someone’s lap–but touching someone while sleeping? Well, it’s rare. 

 

Rare enough that Gary doesn’t get much sleep on the nights that John nestles up against him, on the nights that John climbs into bed with a quick, soft kiss to Gary’s lips, and passes out half on top of him almost immediately. 

 

And, honestly? Any amount of sleep he loses is worth it, for that. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> on tumblr [here](http://jewishgarygreen.tumblr.com/post/175186362704/there-is-a-certain-point-of-sleep-exhaustion-where)


End file.
